Falling Apart
"Where is he? You point me in the direction he went, and you go in the other direction."
Roman Reigns is pissed. So is Dean Ambrose, for that matter, but his anger burns a little differently, shows itself in twitchy movements and darting eyes as they drive to Detroit, wondering how far ahead Seth is from them. They had been fighting the Wyatts when Seth had abruptly left them. Admittedly, a fair amount of the match is a blur to both Dean and Roman, they had spent part of it bickering, and by the time they had turned their focus back to it, Seth had had enough and left the ringside area, watching from the ramp as his teammates tried and failed to regain control of the match, keep the advantage against the Wyatts.
Why, they don't know. It distracts them from their issues with each other, however. Their anger now lies with Seth, bonding them anew as they race mile after mile towards the next town, hoping to find him. Make sense of all this, figure out their next step. Decide if there's a future for The Shield or if this is it, after all of these months.
The drive is silent, Roman stewing angrily out at the darkness, ignoring Dean's random finger wiggles, head bobs and spastic mutters. But Dean stops caring about the long, boring drive and the anger welling up within him when they arrive at the first hotel they come across, Roman's sharp eyes sweeping across all of the vehicles in the parking lot. Neither of them know what car Seth would've driven to get here, but likewise that doesn't matter to Dean either. What matters is the bitter wind biting through his flesh, leaving him shuddering and wondering about where Seth could be, if he's as cold as Dean feels right now.
Roman grabs his bag and Dean grips his, both pausing as their eyes lock on the third bag. Seth had left his things behind in his haste to get out of the arena, but not just his bag. A quick search had revealed his wallet, even his cell phone. Neither of them are sure what he plans on doing with absolutely nothing, nor are sure if they should care, but dammit, they do. If they didn't, they would've just left the bag there to get thrown out, or picked apart by the other superstars.
So here they are, Dean dragging in his own bag and Seth's while Roman books a room, aiming an irritated grimace towards the hotel clerk. They've just turned to walk to the elevator when the woman says something that attracts their attention. "Is that other guy with you two? He had on a vest kinda like yours. Saw him heading for the elevators, but thought he booked a room earlier."
Dean freezes and glances over his shoulder at her, eyes boring into hers. "Dark hair, with a few blond streaks?"
She swallows, unable to look away from him. "Uh, ah, ye- yeah. That sounds right. He had a hat on, but I think I saw some blond..."
"Thanks, darlin'," Roman speaks for the first time since they'd left the arena, racing once more for the elevator. Seth is Seth, and the one thing he'll do without the ability to book a hotel room is ridiculously easy to foresee, even in the middle of February in Michigan. It makes Dean uneasy and he wonders if Roman is just angry or if he too is worried for his former tag champion as they take the elevator as high up as they can, then using the stairs to take them the rest of the way up the stairs to the roof.
Not that it matters, there's no point in disbanding The Shield- or thinking much of its future- if Seth freezes to death in this weather. They move a little faster the higher up they go, and finally Roman pushes the door open, rushing out into the chilly wind once more, Dean's gasp muffled by the wind- Did it get even colder since we were last out here? he thinks, glancing desperately around the roof for their lost brother. He wants to yell but his teeth are chattering and he thinks there's a good chance his vocal chords froze the moment his feet had touched the roof.
Roman apparently doesn't feel like yelling either and their search continues on quietly, Dean about to give up hope on finding him when- he trips and nearly faceplants into the nearest grate, only just catching himself. He looks up and finds himself face to face with Seth, his hat falling forward to block his face. "He's here!" he yells, dashing forward and brushing the hat out of his eyes as Roman stomps over, glaring down at the youngest member of The Shield, breathing heavily in his anger. "He's freezing," Dean mumbles, trying to ease Roman's desperation for a fight, knowing that Seth is far beyond any sort of show down right now.
"So?" he snaps, grabbing Rollins by the collar and dragging him up like he wants to shake him awake and begin facing off with him right here, right now. Except that, through the haze of anger, even Reigns can't deny the facts as the smaller man hangs loosely in his hands, shivering just a little. "Dammit." He releases him roughly and steps aside, ignoring as Dean kneels back down and tries to pull Seth to his feet, his own hands numb and trembling in the darkness.
"C'mon," he grunts, only just getting him up and dragging his arm over his shoulder to brace him. "Get you inside to the room, get you warmed up... and then we'll get some answers from you." Despite how angry Roman's fixed gaze still is, he moves into action and takes Seth's other side, helping Dean walk him off of the roof and down, until it's just a simple elevator ride the rest of the way to their room.
Neither of them are that gentle as they drop him onto the bed and begin to peel off his freezing clothes, Dean pulling the sheets over him and walking over to the couch to slump down and watch as Roman paces left to right. Neither are thrilled, but this is the best they're going to be able to do until he wakes up for real on his own. Something that doesn't happen, Roman's anger rising until he turns to the bed, looking like he's about to punch Seth, awake or not. "Don't do that," Dean drawls, his eyes half-lidded as he fights sleep.
"Like you don't want to do the same," Roman snarls, glancing over his shoulder at the other man.
"Maybe but it's cowardice to do it while he's sleeping. He'll be awake soon enough, do it then, but get in line because I want to get my shots in too." Dean's eyes sharpen a little as Roman rounds on him, snarling. "What?" He stands up, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as they face off. "I'm not sleepin', is that a problem?"
Reigns looks seriously about to strike when Seth moans vaguely, shifting restlessly, and they freeze, looking over at him. When he stills and settles back into sleep, Dean shakes his head and pushes the larger man away, walking over to the bed to look down at Seth. Maybe he was right to walk away, he thinks grudgingly. The three of us can't even be in a room together for five minutes without Roman and I about ready to knock each other's heads off. The last few weeks had been pretty tense between the two of them, Dean not liking all of the attention Roman is receiving, feeling strangely overlooked. He can only imagine how it must feel to be Seth, trapped in the middle of the two of them and their combustible tempers, trying to keep them from killing each other, or The Shield as a whole. "Get some sleep, big man. We're not getting anything resolved till morning anyway," he mutters, sitting down on the edge of the bed with his back to Seth and scraping his fingers through his hair, head bowed as he tries to sort through all that had happened the last few hours.
He releases a soft, relieved sigh when his words, instead of encouraging any further anger from the other man, are listened to for once, Roman settling in on the other bed across the room, not saying another word. Dean sighs and kicks his shoes off before settling in next to Seth, staring blankly at the opposing wall. Neither of them notice as brown eyes flick left to right, Seth far from asleep even as his teammates slip under, desperately needing at least a few hours of rest themselves.
When they wake up a few hours later, however, to find him and his bag both now missing from the room, they just know, exchanging looks full of disbelief and anger. The Shield is at a fork in the road. Disband permanently or rebuild, stronger than before.
Roman Reigns is pissed. So is Dean Ambrose, for that matter, but his anger burns a little differently, shows itself in twitchy movements and darting eyes as they drive to Detroit, wondering how far ahead Seth is from them. They had been fighting the Wyatts when Seth had abruptly left them. Admittedly, a fair amount of the match is a blur to both Dean and Roman, they had spent part of it bickering, and by the time they had turned their focus back to it, Seth had had enough and left the ringside area, watching from the ramp as his teammates tried and failed to regain control of the match, keep the advantage against the Wyatts.
Why, they don't know. It distracts them from their issues with each other, however. Their anger now lies with Seth, bonding them anew as they race mile after mile towards the next town, hoping to find him. Make sense of all this, figure out their next step. Decide if there's a future for The Shield or if this is it, after all of these months.
The drive is silent, Roman stewing angrily out at the darkness, ignoring Dean's random finger wiggles, head bobs and spastic mutters. But Dean stops caring about the long, boring drive and the anger welling up within him when they arrive at the first hotel they come across, Roman's sharp eyes sweeping across all of the vehicles in the parking lot. Neither of them know what car Seth would've driven to get here, but likewise that doesn't matter to Dean either. What matters is the bitter wind biting through his flesh, leaving him shuddering and wondering about where Seth could be, if he's as cold as Dean feels right now.
Roman grabs his bag and Dean grips his, both pausing as their eyes lock on the third bag. Seth had left his things behind in his haste to get out of the arena, but not just his bag. A quick search had revealed his wallet, even his cell phone. Neither of them are sure what he plans on doing with absolutely nothing, nor are sure if they should care, but dammit, they do. If they didn't, they would've just left the bag there to get thrown out, or picked apart by the other superstars.
So here they are, Dean dragging in his own bag and Seth's while Roman books a room, aiming an irritated grimace towards the hotel clerk. They've just turned to walk to the elevator when the woman says something that attracts their attention. "Is that other guy with you two? He had on a vest kinda like yours. Saw him heading for the elevators, but thought he booked a room earlier."
Dean freezes and glances over his shoulder at her, eyes boring into hers. "Dark hair, with a few blond streaks?"
She swallows, unable to look away from him. "Uh, ah, ye- yeah. That sounds right. He had a hat on, but I think I saw some blond..."
"Thanks, darlin'," Roman speaks for the first time since they'd left the arena, racing once more for the elevator. Seth is Seth, and the one thing he'll do without the ability to book a hotel room is ridiculously easy to foresee, even in the middle of February in Michigan. It makes Dean uneasy and he wonders if Roman is just angry or if he too is worried for his former tag champion as they take the elevator as high up as they can, then using the stairs to take them the rest of the way up the stairs to the roof.
Not that it matters, there's no point in disbanding The Shield- or thinking much of its future- if Seth freezes to death in this weather. They move a little faster the higher up they go, and finally Roman pushes the door open, rushing out into the chilly wind once more, Dean's gasp muffled by the wind- Did it get even colder since we were last out here? he thinks, glancing desperately around the roof for their lost brother. He wants to yell but his teeth are chattering and he thinks there's a good chance his vocal chords froze the moment his feet had touched the roof.
Roman apparently doesn't feel like yelling either and their search continues on quietly, Dean about to give up hope on finding him when- he trips and nearly faceplants into the nearest grate, only just catching himself. He looks up and finds himself face to face with Seth, his hat falling forward to block his face. "He's here!" he yells, dashing forward and brushing the hat out of his eyes as Roman stomps over, glaring down at the youngest member of The Shield, breathing heavily in his anger. "He's freezing," Dean mumbles, trying to ease Roman's desperation for a fight, knowing that Seth is far beyond any sort of show down right now.
"So?" he snaps, grabbing Rollins by the collar and dragging him up like he wants to shake him awake and begin facing off with him right here, right now. Except that, through the haze of anger, even Reigns can't deny the facts as the smaller man hangs loosely in his hands, shivering just a little. "Dammit." He releases him roughly and steps aside, ignoring as Dean kneels back down and tries to pull Seth to his feet, his own hands numb and trembling in the darkness.
"C'mon," he grunts, only just getting him up and dragging his arm over his shoulder to brace him. "Get you inside to the room, get you warmed up... and then we'll get some answers from you." Despite how angry Roman's fixed gaze still is, he moves into action and takes Seth's other side, helping Dean walk him off of the roof and down, until it's just a simple elevator ride the rest of the way to their room.
Neither of them are that gentle as they drop him onto the bed and begin to peel off his freezing clothes, Dean pulling the sheets over him and walking over to the couch to slump down and watch as Roman paces left to right. Neither are thrilled, but this is the best they're going to be able to do until he wakes up for real on his own. Something that doesn't happen, Roman's anger rising until he turns to the bed, looking like he's about to punch Seth, awake or not. "Don't do that," Dean drawls, his eyes half-lidded as he fights sleep.
"Like you don't want to do the same," Roman snarls, glancing over his shoulder at the other man.
"Maybe but it's cowardice to do it while he's sleeping. He'll be awake soon enough, do it then, but get in line because I want to get my shots in too." Dean's eyes sharpen a little as Roman rounds on him, snarling. "What?" He stands up, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as they face off. "I'm not sleepin', is that a problem?"
Reigns looks seriously about to strike when Seth moans vaguely, shifting restlessly, and they freeze, looking over at him. When he stills and settles back into sleep, Dean shakes his head and pushes the larger man away, walking over to the bed to look down at Seth. Maybe he was right to walk away, he thinks grudgingly. The three of us can't even be in a room together for five minutes without Roman and I about ready to knock each other's heads off. The last few weeks had been pretty tense between the two of them, Dean not liking all of the attention Roman is receiving, feeling strangely overlooked. He can only imagine how it must feel to be Seth, trapped in the middle of the two of them and their combustible tempers, trying to keep them from killing each other, or The Shield as a whole. "Get some sleep, big man. We're not getting anything resolved till morning anyway," he mutters, sitting down on the edge of the bed with his back to Seth and scraping his fingers through his hair, head bowed as he tries to sort through all that had happened the last few hours.
He releases a soft, relieved sigh when his words, instead of encouraging any further anger from the other man, are listened to for once, Roman settling in on the other bed across the room, not saying another word. Dean sighs and kicks his shoes off before settling in next to Seth, staring blankly at the opposing wall. Neither of them notice as brown eyes flick left to right, Seth far from asleep even as his teammates slip under, desperately needing at least a few hours of rest themselves.
When they wake up a few hours later, however, to find him and his bag both now missing from the room, they just know, exchanging looks full of disbelief and anger. The Shield is at a fork in the road. Disband permanently or rebuild, stronger than before.